AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Sure, but let’s be real. I was a US State Department brat, and I grew up in several scary places. Not everyone gets a fairy tale ending, even if they survive. Survival can be worse than being killed.” A teenage memory resurfaced of when bandits shot her father during a carjacking on a remote highway outside Bogotá. Chronic pain from the gunshot injury, exacerbated by opioid addiction, plagued him ever since. Survival’s consequences broke her family apart.
“True words. What’s your plan?”
“We’re going to defeat terrorists armed with assault weapons while blindfolded, bound, and unarmed. Escape. Get revenge for Riku’s death. You with me so far?”
“Be reasonable,” Mark responded with an annoyed grunt.
“I am. Escaping is our best chance for survival, period. Our odds are terrible, but not zero, so let’s start there.” The scratchy blindfold chafed against her raw cheekbone.
“Look, I’m scared, too.”
The earnest vulnerability in his voice both surprised and touched her, and she lowered her guard a couple of notches. “Promise me one thing.”
“Name it.”
“I need to trust you. No matter how ugly this gets, tell me the truth.” Defenses stripped, she needed reality, no matter how terrible, to fuel her aggression so she could keep fighting.
“I will. Please do the same for me.”
“We need to prepare ourselves to fight.” What remained of her lifeline continued to unravel, leaving precious few gossamer threads in her grasp. Until tonight, Tess believed the day Kyle died was the worst day of her life, a tragedy nothing could ever surpass. She was wrong.
The truck barreled down the highway, disappearing into the night.
****
On a rural road littered with bumps, the truck decelerated on a sharp turn, and their bodies jostled on the metal floor. Her heart pounded, and her palms grew damp in the darkness. Breathing in shallow gulps, she strained to inhale enough air. The truck’s speed slowed to a crawl, and the engine idled a minute before turning off. Distant voices carried from the front cabin, three gunmen talking in muffled tones. The frosty night grew colder, and they were without coats. Two doors opened, followed by two slams and footsteps. A key jingled in the lock, and the truck’s back doors sprawled open and bracing air flowed inside. She shivered.
“We move you now,” said one of the gunmen. Sergey? Or Dmitry? A fourth voice piped up outside, one she couldn’t identify. Rough hands dragged her across the metal floorboards, and her legs spilled over the back bumper.
“Stand,” the voice commanded. The ground was soft and uneven, and a muddy field squished under her boots. A hand on her back propelled her forward.
Hoping Mark was close by, she obeyed, putting one foot in front of the other, her hands bound behind her.
“Walk. Step up. Again. Now step.”
The male voice steered her ahead and she took a few more steps.
“Stop. Sergey, open the room,” the voice said.
Tess entered a chilly structure not much warmer than the outdoors. A door slid on a rail, and a metal bar clanked. A hand rammed her toward the opening.
“Go.”
Another hand shoved her into the room, tore off her blindfold, slammed the door shut, and clanked the metal bar down. A small cutout in the door, about eye height and covered by iron bars, allowed light to enter. She studied the room they passed through and noted the structure’s size. A horse barn, perhaps? The solitary electric bulb hanging from the ceiling, reminiscent of interrogation rooms, sent a shudder through her.
Outside the cell, Yuri’s voice boomed with a flood of words she didn’t understand, and Tess assumed he was giving orders to his men until he broke into English.
“Doctor, you come with me,” Yuri said.
The men left her alone and the cell fell quiet. Only an eerie silence remained. Minutes dragged by at the pace of hours.
Memories of gunfire replayed inside her head. She dug her fingernails deep into her palms to control her fear. Senses on overdrive, she paced around the small cell, testing every wall and crevice for a way out, but minutes later, she hadn’t found any potential escape routes.
About forty-five minutes later, the collection of footsteps returned.
“Throw the doctor inside, too. This is the one stall with locks,” Yuri said.
The door slid open with a loud clank. The two gunmen holding Mark threw him inside the cell. The heavy wooden door of their new prison slammed shut behind them, followed by the ominous metal bang of the thick bar locking the door. Their captors treaded away and left them alone.
